


Ichor

by goodnightlove



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Based off old tf2 ocs, Blood, M/M, Sex, Sniper - Freeform, Spy - Freeform, Team Fortress 2 - Freeform, Vampires, Violence, human spy, tf2 bloody suit, vampire sniper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:29:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightlove/pseuds/goodnightlove
Summary: Spy is captured, tortured and left for dead, but receives a visit from a dangerous and immortal rescuer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an old draft I never did anything with. Vampires are one of my favourite literary monsters and the idea of Sniper as an insanely powerful predator was too good an idea to pass up. Sniper's abilities are loosely based on my own vampires from an original story, kinda of borrowed for this au.  
> The original draft had Spy as the vampire, and I think I'll probably write another story with him as the creature. Only with an entirely different plot. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy! 🌻

How long had he been down in this basement, he couldn’t remember the last time one of his captors had made an appearance. Assignments had turned bad before, yet somehow the Spy always managed to get out of it, more or less intact. It seemed it wasn’t the case this time. The jamming of his revolver and the butt of a rifle had brought that streak to an end.

In the beginning they tortured him day in and day out, electroshock, removing his finger nails and toe nails. Broke ribs, fingers and his left arm. At one point he had been punched so hard in the head that the hearing in his left ear had gone out, and hasn’t returned since. Waterboarding, and sleep deprivation filled out the last of the roster of pain. Spy was a prideful man, and a professional and in the end he gave up nothing. He had been trained for this, Spies never died a quiet peaceful death, that was a luxury not afforded to them. The Frenchman had come to terms with that long ago.

Even so, this is not a way he wanted to go. He couldn’t remember the last time he had food. For a while they gave him food and water, then later just water. At one point the pain in his stomach had become clawing, maddening and impossible to ignore. It felt as though some dark creature was trying to tear it’s way out of his guts. 

However, that was days ago, or was it weeks, he could not recall. The water had stopped three days ago, and he has been sitting in darkness ever since. His throat is killing him, and he can’t form enough saliva to soothe it. There simply wasn’t enough water in his body to do so. 

Spy could feel his head drooping, darkness started to coat the edges of his vision. He was passing out again, and this time he hoped he would never wake up, go quietly. The dim sound of irrupting gunfire and muffled screams slowly drew Spy back to reality. 

He craned his neck from where he was chained to the floor, trying to see anything in the darkness. The spy knew he was underground, so the sounds of fighting had to be close to him. No one was coming to save him, that simply isn’t how it worked. No this had to be outside retaliation. Regardless he didn’t hold his breath on mercy from whoever was currently tearing the mercenaries apart.

The gunfire continued and screams grew more desperate. Moments later the building was shaken by an explosion, scaring Spy half to death and pelting his body with bits of the ceiling. An alarm went off somewhere on a floor above him, causing a single red warning light to whirl to life within the cell. It spun and bathed the basement in an eerie crimson hue. 

Then, as suddenly as the chaos had started it abruptly ended. The gunfire and screams stopped at the same time, causing Spy’s ears to ring from the silence. He listened and waited. Spy groaned and shifted on the concrete floor, his chains rattled loudly as he struggled to right himself. His muscles had no strength in them and his entire body was racked with a bone deep ache. By the time he got to his knees he was breathless and dizzy, the room beyond his eyes spinning precariously. 

The sound of a metal door hitting a wall broke the silence, followed swiftly by the sound of frantic foot falls. They ended at the door to his cell and one of his captors burst inside, a terrified expression etched on his face. He was panicking, breathing like he had run a mile and shaking so badly he was having difficulty locking the door behind him. He peered through the bars of the cell door, staring out in the dark hallway beyond, muttering quickly in what sounded like Slovenian to Spy. 

The man’s eyes suddenly went wide and his breath hitched. Now in a full blown panic he turned and ran straight to Spy’s cell. He fumbled with his keys once more before slamming the door open and grabbing Spy roughly by the back of the neck, drawing a knife and positioning himself behind the Frenchman. He was still muttering to himself and Spy realized the man was praying.

Despite the adrenaline Spy still felt sick, he had been upright for too long. Through a wave of dizziness he felt the hand on his neck go stiff and the man become still. Spy looked upward and found himself frozen as well, when his gaze landed on a pair of piercing blue eyes, glowing just beyond the bars of the door. Spy felt himself becoming numb, as though his entire body had fallen asleep, panic welled up inside him and fear, true fear settled in the pit of his stomach. His captor must have felt it as well, cause strangled, panicked gasps were escaping the man’s chest. 

“You gonna let me in?” A deep, smooth voice echoed through the door. It had a hint of amusement to it and carried with it an accent Spy identified as Australian. 

As soon as those words were spoken Spy felt the hand on his neck release and his captor started toward the cell door. His body moved in an odd way, as though he was fighting with his own limbs. The panicked gasps never stopped as his smoothly drew the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

Spy’s brain seemed to stop out as he watched the frightened captor swiftly bring his knife up to his throat and slowly, methodically press it into his jugular vein. The panicked gasps were replaced with gagging sounds as blood began to pour from the wound of out his mouth. His rigid body suddenly went limp and he collapse to the floor in a bloody, choking heap.

Spy’s gaze was fixed on the convulsing body across from him when the cell door squeaked open. He lifted his gaze and found himself staring into electric pools of blue. He hadn’t heard a thing, saw no movement, how did his person make it all the way across the room and into his cell. Did he black out for a moment? 

“You’re a sad sight ain’t ya. Nothing but skin and bones, not even worthy of a meal.” The voice was the same as before, and Spy thought briefly that it was pleasant and that he would have liked to keep listening to it. His brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, he didn’t catch the word ‘meal’ at the end.

Spy still felt like he didn’t have control over his body and could only look up at the individual. The man was tall, taller than Spy and thin but looked strong beneath his clothing. He wore a red button up shirt, a two toned black and brown vest, brown slacks, cowboy boots and a Akubra sat atop his head. He would have been handsome if not for the blood that was covering his mouth and splattered across his torso.

He crouched down and took closer stock of the beaten and captured Spy.

“Really did a number on you. Shame it looked like a nice suit.” Face to face now Spy couldn’t take his eyes off the man, seemingly drawn to him, even as the scent of copper filled his nose.

“Kill me.” The words that left Spy’s mouth were painful and barely above a whisper, he hadn’t spoken in so long. He wasn’t sure he was speaking in English either.

“What’s that? Speak up mate.” The man said, still, he was unnaturally still.

“Kill...me S'il vous plaît...” Spy struggled with the words, and his throat was screaming by the end of the meager sentence.

“Heh, never heard that before. Most bloaks are begging for their lives, not asking me to kill them.”

Spy sagged and started to fall backwards, the darkness around his vision returning. If not for the assassin’s hand coming to rest gently on the back of his neck, he would have collapse.

“Monsieur, kill me...or leave me, but do not insult me. I am tired...I am tired.” Spy’s voice sounded foreign to his ears, he had never heard himself sound so weak before. He loathed it.

“Then sleep.” 

Darkness flooded Spy’s vision and he felt as though he were falling. He didn’t fight it, accepted it, welcomed it. Finally an end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy awakens in a safe place and finds himself remarkably healed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew sorry for the long time between chapters, I finally bought Red Dead Redemption 2 and fell down that well. ^^;  
> I'm not sure how many chapters this is going to have in the end, and how long each one is going to be. I've been working on this one and wanted to publish it, despite how short it is.  
> Thank You for all the comments, they really do mean a lot. I'm just a very anxious bean most of the time and have trouble answering them.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 🌻

Nothing, no pain, or worries, just an overwhelming feeling of calmness. Still present, existing, but drifting, floating in an ocean of black, then all at once pain.

Spy gasps and shudders as reality crashes into him. He can’t pinpoint what’s wrong, it’s everything all at once, it’s too much. His body is screaming, he wants desperately to crawl out of his own skin, anything to make it stop. He can feel his blood pumping rapidly through his veins. It’s on fire, it’s burning, burning him from the inside. He hears snapping, horrid sound of bone snapping, and the agony begins anew.

Make it stop. Make it stop. He wants to scream but his lungs aren’t working. He can feel himself writhing, trying to physically escape the pain. But, an ever present weight presses down on his chest, and he he is powerless against it. A massive, unyielding weight keeping him from moving while his blood boils within him.

Then just as quickly as it began, it ends, the pain settles to a dull roar and the exhausted Spy can feel himself physically relax. His own laboured breathing sounds foreign to his ears, the blackness returns once more and he welcomes it again.

○

Sensation returns first, the room is pleasantly cool and the bed beneath him is soft. He wants to sink further into the comfort and stay there, worried the pain will return.  
Sound is next, he can make out the distinct sounds of a distant city, wind and soft pattering of rain against a window. Somewhere in the room, the low hum of an air conditioning unit.

Feeling brave the Spy opens his eyes, his vision blurs for a moment before a concrete ceiling comes into focus, turning his head he realizes he’s in a basement, or bunker of sorts. Or at least that is the feeling he is getting from the room. It’s an open layout, with a sitting area, television, a desk and a small kitchen area. Lying around the room he spots several duffel bags, ammo boxes and small wooden crates. He can just make out the distinct round logo of Reliable Excavation Demolition.  
His heart sinks at that moment. The Spy was briefly employed by Builder’s League United not a year ago. His employment ended suddenly when his team were fired and sent on their way, he’d been solo every since. While most were like him, had no real loyalty to he company, others were fiercely loyal and kept lines drawn in the sand.

That...man, that’s why his clothing looked familiar, he was a former RED. He had not recognized him at the time, and it’s highly possible that he was from a different team. There were many others beside Fortress, though Spy had never met any of them personally.

The hair on his arms began to stand up and anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach. Instantly his gaze snapped over to the entrance to find the Sniper standing there, unnaturally still as before. Whenever Spy looked at him he was hit with a mixture of fear and fascination. He could never take his eyes off him, like watching a tiger slowly approach, knowing it’s going to eat you.

“Mornin’ sunshine. Been asleep for two days, didn’t think you was ever gonna wake up.” His voice was still deep and calm, and Spy still found he enjoyed it, despite himself.

The tall man quietly crossed the room, making not a sound when he came and settled himself in an old green chair next to the bed.

Spy found he couldn’t stop looking into his eyes, just as before. There were no longer electric blue, rather a soft muted blue. He always felt like he was falling looking at him, dazed.

Spy wet his lips and swallowed roughly, his throat and head were still killing him. “Where am I?”

“In one of my safe houses, can never be too safe.” Came his response, the sniper seemed relaxed, his body slouched in the chair, no tension. He was clean now, free of blood and crimson. He wore a simple white undershirt and a pair of brown slack, his feet were bare.

“Why did you save me?” Spy didn’t relish the idea of being alone with a being that ripped through an entire base full of goons single handed.

“Why not?”

Spy wanted to sneer at the man, but kept his face neutral as ever. He didn’t enjoy this coy game, or the way the man always seemed to answer questions, with questions. He was being toyed with and he didn't enjoy it. Spy was used to driving the conversation, leading his targets to just where he wanted them.

“You are a former RED non?”

“And you’re a BLU. I don’t see what that has to do with me savin’ you.”

Spy brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose when he realized he was hooked up to an IV. A small drip was set, fluids. Reality dawned on him, his left arm was healed, not only was the bone set and his arm back in the proper shape, but there was no pain, or cast.

“You were almost dead, been a hell of a time keeping your heart ticking.” The Sniper reached over and clicked on a bedside lamp, finally allowing Spy to see him clearly. He looked a little rugged and quiet handsome, looked around the same age as Spy himself. Though perhaps more years were etched into his face. Long features, crows feet and some laugh lines. The man was an odd mixture of looking young and older at the same time.

“How...I don’t understand.” Spy’s voice was just above a whisper as he clenched and unclenched fingers. He received no answer from the Sniper, but he could still feel his ever present gaze on him.

“That pain...it wasn’t a dream was it? What did you do to me?” This time Spy turned to address the other man, tone becoming harder.

Sniper remained silent, his expression turning almost...sympathetic. “You were dying mate, simple. I was a bit of a dag, did something stupid to save you. Hurt like hell for me too, but here you are.”

Silence fell between them and Spy’s gaze returned to his fixed arm. “That didn’t explain anything, you are the most difficult man I have ever spoken to.” “Can you not answer a question simply?” “How did you kill all those mercenaries? How did you fix my arm?” Spy was tired and his patience was wearing thin. He felt slightly afraid and helpless, he didn’t like it. He wanted to feel strong, and in control again.

Spy hears a deep sigh and the sound of the chair creaking as the Sniper sat up. “I’m a blood drinker, vampire, whatever the hell you want to call me. Been like this since the twenties. I saved you by taking some of your injuries onto myself. My body can heal rapidly, that’s what saved you.”

Their gazes met again, and the expression of sympathy had not left the Sniper. “Never done it before myself, it’s dangerous for both of us. I saw it done only once before. I used to run with an older vampire, he and his sheila. An operation went tits up and the poor girl ended in a bad way. We were in the middle of nowhere, she wasn’t going to make it. So he took the worst of her injuries onto himself, saved her.” The Sniper said casually.

“Why me? Why would you do that to save me?” Spy felt tired again, just wanted to sleep, just wanted answers.

“Suppose...I’m lonely. It’s been years since I had a proper conversation that didn’t have to do with killing someone. If I’m really honest, I don’t know why I saved you. Just didn’t want you to die. I’m not human but I...still feel like one you know. It all comes down to loneliness I guess.” Sniper said, idly scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

Spy looked into his eyes, searching for any signs of deception. He found none, only truth, and that scared him more than anything. He wanted the Sniper to lie to him, deceive him, Lies he was used to, lies he could handle. But truth, openness, no, he couldn't handle that, didn't know how to deal with it.

Darkness began to slowly creep into the edges of Spy’s vision and he felt the world beginning to spin. In the blink of an eye the Sniper was standing at the edge of his bed, hand gently resting on his shoulder. Spy blinked up at him, shocked at the sudden movement and closeness of the other man.

“Think that’s enough talkin’ for one day. Sleep, you’re safe here.” Spy stared up at the taller man, unsure what to make of the comforting words. He searched the blue eyes once more and again found no deception. Bullets, bombs, espionage in general, none of it scared him, death did not scare him. But this...kindness was always frightening. He never knew how to feel about it, wasn’t accustomed to it, not without expecting a catch at the end.

Despite his fears Spy found his eyes closing and sleep swiftly taking him away, the face of the Sniper still clear in his minds eye.


End file.
